


Just for Today

by SuzuyaJuuzou



Category: Gangsta. (Manga)
Genre: Angst, Anniversary, Character Death, Established Relationship, F/M, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Other, POV Second Person, POV Third Person, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-08 08:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4296897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuzuyaJuuzou/pseuds/SuzuyaJuuzou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Give me love like never before,</i>
  <br/>
  <i>'Cause lately I've been craving more.</i>
</p><p> <i>And it's been a while but I still feel the same,</i><br/><i>Maybe I should let you go...</i></p><p> <i>After my blood is drowning in alcohol..</i><br/><i>No, I just wanna hold ya.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Just for Today

**Author's Note:**

> I recommend listening to [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FOjdXSrtUxA) while reading.

"Is something wrong with Nicolas?"

"Huh? ..Oh, no, no, nothing's wrong. He just gets a little down sometimes, you know? It just so happens to be especially, today!"

"Uhm.. Are you sure?"

"Yeah, yeah! Don't worry about it, Al-chan!"

A glance and he knows they're talking about him.  
It's obvious in the way Worick shifts his body so that Nicolas can't see what he's saying and the concerned look on Alex's face who keeps glancing at him. He doesn't care for the reason they're talking about him but he can guess. Today's not the day for that though. Today.. He needs to make a visit. 

_Sigh, it never gets easier, does it?_

 

Worick makes sure Nic isn't looking when he says today's an off day. He knows Nicolas already knows but some things don't need a reminder, no matter how small. _He should know_ , after all. 

With a sigh, he waves off Alex's incoming barrage of questions with a fake smile and tells her not to worry. To take a break she well deserves. _They all need one_ , he thinks as he eyes Nicolas leaving the room.  
_Today especially._

 

It's routine. Has been routine for the past who knows how many years - a small lie because he does know, it's been 12 years. Yet he continues with it, Worick too. Maybe it's because it's simple, or because it's already a habit to do things a certain way on this specific day. Hell, even their clients, the ruling families and the guild know not to bother them whenever it's today.

 _Damn_ , he thinks, _why did things have to even turn out like this? You would have been, what, 32 now? The real, **original** third member of Benriya._

 

It wasn't anyone's fault. Well it was the thugs' fault for starting the whole mess but it was your choice in the end. 

A fight had broken out and Benriya had been called, as per usual, to stop it. It was between twilights and anti twilights, down at Dr Theo's clinic. Usual roughing up, though more antis than twilights.  
The three of you had been kicking butts, trying to help the twilights that didn't want to fight run, and trying to get the twilights that _did_ want to fight out of the area, but apparently, none of you had noticed _her_.

A little twilight girl who had seen her father get kicked down by an anti had ran in to help, only to get taken a hold of by the anti's buddy who started running. You ran after them, determined to save the kid's life.  
Worick and him had let you go, thinking you could handle it. Sure you were a normal, and hell of a lot weaker than the both of them, but you still had your strengths and agility was one of them.

**No one noticed the gun.**

The anti, John Black, had it against the girl's head, full of restraining agents. One shot would have killed her.

According to the girl, you reacted. You had a gun, yourself, and shot his leg. The distraction worked, and John released her, giving her a chance to run, while you charged towards him and drop kicked him. She thought everything would have been okay.  
She was hiding behind the corner, watching, when she saw another anti come up from behind, unnoticed, and hit you in the back with a steel pipe. You fell to the floor, a snapping noise heard, coughing blood from your mouth. 

She didn't hear what John had said while you were screaming in agony, but she didn't need to. All she needed was to see him point the gun between your eyes and **fire**.

 

He hates himself for not being there. Not being there to save you, not being there in your last moments, not being fast enough and not being there to tell you that he loved you, and still does.

 

The skies are grey and the air is humid by the time he's nearly at the end of his routine, and it's not even evening yet.

He's got your favourite snack and a single white Orchid, as always, placed at the site of your death. 

Your body was taken as evidence by the police, and then cremated since there wasn't a place for burial nearby. Worick and him had kept your ashes in the house since you didn't have any other known living family member, and they didn't feel right with leaving them with the police either. 

Despite that, he always came to this spot on your anniversary.  
It wasn't because he felt guilty, which he did, but because he could never get the image of you out of his head. The memory of your death. You being dead. 

 

He sits at the couch and no one disturbs him. Alex is in his room, revising and studying her sign language, so he's using this time to do his part of the routine.  
Sighing, he starts. 

"Hey... It's me, Worick. I can't believe it's been 12 years already but, you hear me say that every year, don't you? Geez, where to even begin..  
Oh, recently, we got a new addition to the crew. I think she's going to be sticking 'round for a while. It's nice having someone else here again. After you, and then Veronica... 

The air's getting real stuffy in here, you know?" He laughs from that while making sure to keep his voice down. Irony wasn't something you were fond of, and saying such a thing with the windows opened and the sky just beginning to drip would've gotten on your nerves. 

"Her name's Alex... She's a good girl, pal. You probably would've liked her. Nic, on the other hand.. You know how he is around women. I think they're warming up to each other though. I saw him standing beside the speaker while she was singing and damn, does she have a voice. What with all going on, it's a gift and a blessing to relax for a while and hear her sing. I'm sure you must know. There must be a ton of familiar faces wherever you are now, huh? Say hi to some of 'em for me, will ya? 

It was a real blood bath, honestly, pal. Wish I didn't have to see it, but we can't get everything in life. I wonder what you would've done or said at a time like this. Probably something like 'toughen up', right? Heh. You always had a strong will but.. I really don't know how things are going to play out this time. It's not that easy now to just play around and get out of trouble and stuff like we've been doing. 

We'll get through it though, won't we? I'm sure you wouldn't want to see us there with you so early.. We have to get through it." 

He puffs the smoke through his nose before putting out the cigarette he's been smoking, "Nicolas is gonna be back soon. I know how you two _love_ having your own special sweet time together so I'll be taking Al-chan out, alright, buddy? I'll talk to you again next time, when things get easier again, though I really doubt they will. Ah, seriously, this is gonna be a mess but, you'll be looking out for us, right? So it won't be too bad," he grins.

There's a sound of footsteps coming up the stairs, so he gets up, sighs, and clears the ash tray. 

_'Promise to look out for us, okay? Nicolas especially. It's been hard on him lately... Sigh._

_It doesn't get any easier doing this, does it?'_

 

He's walking to the top of the stairs when the door opens to reveal Worick and Alex heading out. 

"Yo, Nico! Al-chan and I are planning on going to get more groceries, d'you need anything?" Worick smiles but continues walking down the stairs.

Nicolas just ignores him and continues his steps since he knows Worick doesn't actually expect a response but he is grateful to him for getting Alex out of the house. It means that he can be in peace, _even if for a little while_ , he thinks while closing the door.

He goes to sit at the couch where Worick sat just moments before, and places a cold soda on the table in front of him. _In front of the urn_. He doesn't sigh like he used to when this was still new and recent to him, but he feels the urge to all the same. Instead, he pops open the can and faces it to the urn, like as if the urn itself was capable of drinking it, before relaxing in his seat.

A moment of silence follows as he thinks of what to say, his eyes resting on the edge of the table.  
If he were to close his eyes, he'd be able to imagine you sitting in front of him, taking a drink of the soda, just to turn to him and smile, "You always seem to know what I feel like drinking, _Nicky_. How d'you do that, huh?"

"Magic," he'd sign, like he's imagined the conversation going for years.

You'd laugh and grin, "Oh, really? Is it the same magic you used to steal my heart?" and laugh some more because of how cheesy that line was, and he'd grin at how silly you were being. He still remembers how you used to tell him to laugh because you never heard him laugh before. 

He doesn't think it's possible to now.

"Hey, hey, _hey_ , no gloomy thoughts now, _Nicky_ ," he loves how you'd call him that. It's the one thing no one calls him, because they know it's a nickname reserved for _you_ , _and your use **only**_.

He'd scoff jokingly, wave you off, and say

" ** _I missed you._** "

His voice is scratchy, weary, and thick of feeling too much and not enough. He doesn't want to look up because he doesn't want his imagination to end, he doesn't want you to leave, but he still does. He's got to face reality, or die dreaming. That's how life is, especially in Ergastulum.

He swallows and tries again, " _I miss you._ "

The words are not foreign, echoing once every year, yet his mouth, tongue, and lips never get used to them. Even signing it out feels weird.  
He doubts he'll ever get used to it.

 

"Wow, it's really pouring, huh, Worick?" Alex gazes at the grey clouds in the sky from under the roadside stall's cloth roof. "It's a shame the sun's still out or the weather would've been cooler... Hm, Worick?"

She glances to her side in time to see him snap out of his daze. "A-ah, yeah it would've, hn, Al-chan?"

".. Is something wrong? You and Nicolas have been acting strange lately..." _Maybe they finally thought to kick her out..._ she thought.  
_No, get it together Alex! .. But they have been getting more sullen the past few days, was it because of her? She thought they'd gotten used to her already.. Maybe that was it, she over stayed her welcome or.. could she have done something out of line?! But she's been normal the past week! No hallucinations, she's feeling better, and.. they wouldn't have gotten mad over her cooking, would they? Come on, they're not that kind of people, **they're not Ba**_ \--

A hand on her head silences her thoughts.

"You're thinking too much again, Al-chan. I can see you shaking." Worick smiles when she looks up from the ground, when her gaze dropped she didn't know. She lets out a nervous smile though her nerves are already calming down, ".. That's because the groceries are heavy, you idiot."

He laughs loudly and it eases the last bit of her tension. "Here, give me it."

She thanks him as she hands him the bag she was holding, and as they continue their shopping she asks, "Worick, I.. I hope it's not too intrusive but, what were you doing at the alleyway just now, while I was buying the bread?"

"Hm? Oh that, I was just praying."

"In an alleyway? I didn't know you were religious." 

"You don't have to be religious to pray, Al-chan, but yeap, in an alleyway."

"With a bunch of small flowers?" Her eyebrows furrowed noticing he wasn't looking at her while talking.

"Well, they're always a nice addition."

"Where do you even get flowers like Hydrangeas and Hyacinths from around here?"

"You ask a lot of questions, Alex." It surprises her when he stops walking just to look at her and for a second she thought he was glaring at her but he smiled.

"Let's just enjoy the rain, okay? It doesn't rain around here often, ya know?"

"Oh... Okay." 

_He changed the topic.._

 

The hardest part is always the start because he doesn't ever know what to say or how to say it. After that, though, it comes out naturally, as if the cap to his hidden bottle of emotions has been loosened and it's all just flowing out like a fountain turning into rough sea before it calms. That's how it happens every year.

It starts with an "I miss you" then a clench of a jaw, a hesitant raise of hands that lowers a second after. Mouth opening slowly to form words but shuts close almost immediately because everything feels wrong no matter what he does.  
He sighs because it's inevitable not to, and runs his hand through his hair in frustration, tousling it.

In the end, he concludes, as he always does, that you can't see him so signing would be dumb and scoffs before opening his mouth after a pause. 

"Thing's.. are rough lately...  
Worick's probably told you already. It was a mess; They tried to take down the Cristiano's and.." A sigh escapes as he clasps his hands together.

"Monroe was behind it. He had Delico's sister and some kid we don't know. We got him now though, but he's a mess so it's pointless...

I'm sorry. I know Monroe raised you... Hell, he raised us too. _Guh, why..._ " He tightens the hold on his hands, trying to distract himself from the pain in his mind and his heart. _Fuck, he misses you._

You always knew what to say when he had a rough time and you could read his moods even if his facial expression and body language stayed the same. You knew the ways to comfort him that no one else knew and you knew how to move your hands in a way that a single touch could mean "I love you", "I miss you", "I'm sorry", and "I'm always going to be here for you."

When he was enclosed by your arms to your chest, it felt like you were all there was left in the world and if he closed his eyes it would feel as if a heavenly sense of peace had been bestowed upon him. All around him would be your scent, your warmth, the vibrations of your words and laughter that he'd feel from your chest, your hands petting his head and smoothing down his back, and **you**. You were younger than him but sometimes he felt like, between the two of you, he was the one who was the child and you were the one holding his hand and leading the way.

You were his lifeline and now you're gone and _nothing can change that._  
Even hunched over on the couch, eyes red rimmed and pupils dilated, he knows. No matter how much tears he cries, or how much he screams and wails in a broken voice, or how many times he throws the furniture around the house and breaking it, he knows but he can't help it. He can't end his routine or his game of Pretend anymore than he can bring you back to life.

 

He's wrapped in cold sweat and panting out hot breaths by the time he's finished. He's just standing and staring at the table where your picture, from the mug shots all of you took when you were younger, stands. It's still a funny memory to him how he and Worick, mostly Worick, coerced you into stealing some bread because they got tired of you following them around. They thought that they'd finally be free of you but a few minutes later, there you were; Huffing and sweaty, but proud with 3 loaves of fresh, warm bread in your arms. 

That day was the one where they decided to let you stay with them and also the day they got their mugshots taken. Inspector Chad was beyond speechless when he heard of what had happened and it was the first time he ever saw someone so happy to get a mugshot.  
It was a stupid thing but it was a good memory since it led to the three of you growing close and inseparable.

_Until the incident, of course._

 

Worick makes sure his footsteps are louder than usual when he goes up the stairs with Alex following behind. They stop just before the door and laugh because somehow, on their way back, the downpour got heavier and the two of them, including their groceries, got soaked. He makes sure he knocks loudly, even if it gains a weird look from Alex, because he needs to ensure Nicolas isn't having another fit and Alex won't see it. It's useless though, since he opens the door to see a messed up apartment and Nicolas standing in front of the only upright piece of furniture that isn't attached to the wall, a table with a soda and an urn on it, holding onto a picture frame. He's used to the scene but Alex isn't and when she's about to rush in and question what had happened, he holds her arm tight and tells her not to worry before pulling her along to the kitchen. He's used it but it doesn't dull the throb in his chest and left eye whenever he sees it.

They straighten the furniture in the kitchen and unpack their groceries. He ignores the door that slams in the process and shoots Alex a strained smile to keep her quiet. She may be a close friend but this isn't something he's ready to talk about. He doubts Nicolas is any better.

The furniture is upright and looking normal when they exit the kitchen, like as if the mayhem they saw 20 minutes ago never happened. _Good_ , he thinks before faking a yawn and telling Alex he'll be off to bed early. He can't stand anymore of this pretending and truth be told, he can't stand Nicolas either whenever he's like this.

 

 _She's a stranger in this home_ , is something she recalls when she goes to the couch to sleep. The sun's still up, lighting the room with an orange glow, but it's a free day and she's tired from the day's events. Questions are still flooding her mind and she wants answers but Worick's reaction is ever present in her memory and she thinks Nicolas' would be even worse.

She looks at the table where a soda can is left open and untouched. Worick had stressed to her not to touch it, and that they'll deal with it in the morning so she hasn't, but she's curious to the reason and purpose of the soda can... and the other object that she saw on the table. It looked like a ceramic jar, maybe an urn?

_But why would they have an urn?_

She looks around to check but sees nothing else that strikes importance except a picture frame on another table. She recalls Nicolas holding one and curiousity gets the better of her, so she stands and makes sure she doesn't hear any sound of rustling sheets before going to look at it.

It's odd how it's the first time she's noticed the frame... _perhaps it wasn't there before?_ But the only place she hasn't been would be Nicolas room so...

She's hesitant now.  
She may not be scared of Nicolas anymore but she definitely doesn't want to get on his bad side and somehow she gets the feeling like looking at the picture in the frame would very much rub him the wrong way.

 _Curiosity did kill the cat... but satisfaction brought it back **so**._  
She waits a minute to make sure there is absolutely no noise heard from behind either closed doors before going to squat in front of the picture frame.

She doesn't know what she was expecting but a child looking to be 10 years old holding on to a black plate with what she assumes to be the child's name on it, smiling happily at the camera like it's the best day of the kid's life is definitely not it.

Reaching out carefully, she touches the glass of the frame softly. The picture is obviously torn out from it's original place on some other piece of paper and from the colour of it all, it looks old, _maybe even 10 years old_ , but she guesses more since it looked rather well preserved.

She lets loose a sigh she didn't know she was holding.  
_These people, Benriya, really are a mystery no matter how close you try to get._

She rests her head on her hands and stares at the photo some more, wondering just **who** this child could be. Perhaps the kid had died, which would explain the flowers she saw Worick holding onto earlier on. That would be terrible though.. If that had happened to her or worse.. _Emilio.._  
She doesn't think she'd be able to take it.

Head buried in her hands on her knees, she sits like that and thinks, 

_Life here really doesn't get any easier, does it?_

**Author's Note:**

> Submission for [this contest](http://lilysm.deviantart.com/journal/Summer-Contest-OPEN-539880444).
> 
> I had the idea in my head going on for a bit, so I decided to write it out and develop it from there. Also for the theme, "Summer Rain", I went with both a literal and metaphorical meaning. Who ever said Summer rain was happy, right?
> 
> I got a bit tired towards the end because I lost the rhythm and had no idea how to end the story lmaoo
> 
> And the flowers in the story are chosen specifically for their meaning and because they're used in funerals.  
> Orchids say "I will always love you". Pink and white are traditional colors of sympathy, so I went with white since pink's a bit eh in this occasion.  
> For Worick, I couldn't choose betwen Hydrangeas and Hyacinths. The first symbolizes heartfelt emotions, or a gift of thanks in repayment for understanding. The latter represents truthfulness and sincerity, and some other variety of meanings ranging from “you're included in my prayers” to deep anguish.
> 
> In case it's not clear, Worick does **not** have romantic feelings for the reader. He sees the reader as a sibling, someone he cherishes deeply in a platonic sense, a best friend basically. [I view Worick as being aromantic so yeah *coughs*] And I think Alex would have some knowledge on flowers. I don't know, how but maybe she picked up a book on them when she was younger. Hinting she probably knew the meaning of them B)
> 
> dA link: http://yvtaa.deviantart.com/art/Just-For-Today-549453848


End file.
